Home
by minachandler
Summary: Set during 3x23. After Oliver says goodbye to Diggle, Felicity asks him to come home with her. It's not really a question, though, not when it's so obvious that Oliver is going to say yes. Smut.


"You be well, Oliver," said Diggle as he stepped into the elevator, and Oliver felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as Diggle turned to face him.

"You too," Oliver replied, and as the doors closed, his heart became heavy with guilt and regret. Because he knew, had always known, that what he had done was an unspeakable act of betrayal. Equally, he knew it stung all the more because Diggle was his best friend, his brother, and Oliver knew that that was not something that could be forgiven easily.

He could remember feeling like this after betraying Tommy – and then losing him before he could even try to make amends. Oliver wished with all his heart that the same would not happen with Diggle.

Mercifully, he was not given long with his thoughts when he heard soft footsteps behind him. And despite everything, Oliver could feel his lips upturn into a smile at the presence of Felicity, even before he met her eyes.

"Is he okay?" she asked, her hand on his arm.

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"He'll come around," she assured him, and he could see from her eyes that in spite of everything that he had done, she still had faith in him – that she still loved him, and that thought alone gave him comfort.

Oliver stooped down and kissed her, cupping her face and catching her unawares, and he could feel her smile against his mouth. Still cradling her cheek, he leaned his forehead against hers, their breath still mingling, and he murmured, "I love you."

Felicity beamed, her smile growing wider as she whispered back, "I love you too." Placing her hand on his chest, she tiptoed so their noses brushed against each other. Her palm was warm on his beating heart, which quickened at her touch. "Come home with me?" she asked softly, and Oliver knew it wasn't really a question… not when it was so obvious he was going to say yes.

But he said it anyway, knowing he would never tire of the smile his assent elicited.

"Let me just ask Ray where he's keeping my bike and then we can go, okay?" he said, and she nodded, still smiling. His hand trailed down from where it had been resting on her cheek to her shoulder, down her arm until her hand was in his and their fingers were tangled together. They went back into the main room, hand-in-hand, where Ray was sat at his computer, his brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. Thea and Nyssa were conversing quietly in the corner, and Laurel emerged from a nearby office, now dressed in regular clothes.

"Everything all right with Dig?" she asked.

"Yeah," Felicity said quickly, and Oliver was grateful for that. "I… we," she corrected herself with a slight smile, "were just leaving, actually."

Oliver let go of Felicity's hand, then, while she continued her conversation with Laurel, and went over to Ray. Ray looked up from his computer expectantly, an unreadable expression on his face, and before Oliver could say anything, Ray said quickly, "Your Ducati is in the room just off the reception where you left it."

"Thank you, Ray," said Oliver, extending his hand, and he detected Ray's hesitance.

Nevertheless, after a moment, Ray shook Oliver's hand. "It's no problem."

Oliver shook his head. "Not just for that. The city… it would have been in pieces if it weren't for your inoculant. Not to mention," he added meaningfully, "I definitely wouldn't have been alive without your suit. So thank you."

"You're welcome, but we both know it's Felicity you should be thanking. And I'm sure you already have." It was when Ray bestowed something resembling a smile on Oliver that Oliver realised that it wasn't bitterness in his expression, or even jealousy – it was more wistfulness and a resigned sort of acceptance.

"About Felicity –"

"It's okay," Ray interrupted. "Really, it is. To be honest, deep down, part of me knew it from the very first time I met you. I think, even then, it was obvious from the way she… looked at you that you made her happy. And I've realised, since, that there have always been three people in this relationship – you, Felicity and the Arrow. And that's okay. I've accepted that she's made a choice and that you have too, and that they're the right ones. But I just need to ask one thing from you."

"Of course I'll take care of her," Oliver said firmly, adding as an afterthought, "although she definitely doesn't need it." And this time a true smile crossed Ray's face.

"Thank you, Oliver," he said, and his handshake was less stoic now as their eyes met in understanding and a weird kind of respect.

Next, Oliver went over to Laurel and gestured for her to follow him outside. She raised her eyebrows but did so anyway, and the chatter from the room died down a little.

"So," she said, the moment they were out of earshot, "you and Felicity, huh? You kept that quiet."

"I'm sorry, I mean to say something –" Oliver began, but Laurel shook her head and laughed.

"Ollie, I was joking. You may be many things, but subtle you're not. I've known how you feel about Felicity for months. And I've also known how she feels about you."

"I forget how well you know me sometimes," he admitted, chuckling too. "I also forget," he added, "how many times I've said things, or done things, that have hurt you in the last year."

"Oh?" she said, and she looked surprised but also expectant.

"Specifically… I told you months ago that you weren't a hero. I told you – wrongly – that you were chasing the adrenaline like you had chased the booze, or the pills, and I shouldn't have. You are a hero, Laurel – you took care of my… our city when I couldn't, and you were a hero when I wasn't. So I'm sorry that I ever begrudged you of that."

Laurel smiled. "That's nice to hear."

"And I know for a fact that no matter how much she would want you out of harm's way, Sara would be proud of what you've become. Especially after tonight."

"To be honest, I'd be more concerned with how she would feel about you marrying Nyssa," Laurel said, and Oliver laughed. "I would totally try and help you out with that, by the way, but Nanda Parbat isn't exactly my jurisdiction." She reached up and hugged him. "Thanks, Ollie."

"You're welcome," he replied, hugging her back. Over her shoulder, Oliver saw Felicity emerge from the office, her jacket zipped up.

"Hey," she called, just as he let go of Laurel. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," he said, and when Felicity was at his side, Laurel pulled her into a hug too.

"I'm in court all day tomorrow, so if I don't see you before you go…" Laurel stepped back, regarding Felicity warmly. "Have fun, wherever you decide to go."

"Thanks, Laurel," said Felicity cheerfully, and after a final glance inside, Oliver pressed the button to call the elevator. Unexpectedly, he felt Felicity's arm circle his waist. When he looked down at her, they shared a smile, before he put his arm over her shoulders.

The elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside. No sooner had the doors shut, though, did Felicity tilt her face up to his, and automatically, Oliver leaned down to meet her kiss. A few moments later, he found himself coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, allowing him to taste her properly for the first time in weeks. Her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the elevator. Oliver could feel the coldness of the metal bar through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the way she punctuated each kiss with a soft pant sent shivers up his spine.

All too soon, though, the elevator doors opened, and they broke apart, both breathing heavily and laughing at the same time. But neither of them needed to say anything; instead, Felicity grabbed Oliver's hand, leading the way out of the elevator. He could feel her pulse throbbing with anticipation as he ran his thumb across the inside of her wrist, and when they reached the right room, she reached into her jacket pocket for the key.

His Ducati was against the wall, exactly where he'd left it before he had left Starling for Nanda Parbat. "You can wear the helmet if you want," he offered, but she shook her head.

"I trust you," she said simply, and for some reason, that assuaged his guilty conscience just a little. He smiled as he began wheeling the bike out of the room and into the reception, Felicity just behind him. She took off her glasses as she followed him, placing them in the inside pocket of her jacket. Once they reached the entrance, he climbed on first, and moments later, he felt her do the same.

"Hey, Felicity," he said, "hold on to me tight." His heart soared when his words elicited a laugh from her, and he felt her bury her face into his back and her arms snake firmly around his middle.

The ride was quiet, mostly, with Oliver occasionally asking if she was okay. The second time he asked, she told him to go faster, before giggling at the implications of her words. He would have laughed too, but he was more than a little preoccupied with the feeling of her breasts against his back, her chin on his shoulder and the hum of her laugh in his ears. He had his eyes on the road, but it made no difference to the feeling of her pelvis pressing against him and her thighs squashing onto his. And when he swerved unexpectedly, her hands slipped from his waist and collided with his groin for several seconds.

"Sorry," she said, though she sounded anything but sorry (especially when she let one hand linger for what felt like forever before she removed it), and he could hear the smirk in her voice even though he couldn't see her face.

Thankfully, they were only a few blocks away from her apartment, and before long, Oliver brought the Ducati to a halt, just next to the sidewalk. For the life of him, he couldn't even wait to dismount before twisting round and kissing her soundly on the lips. He caught her by surprise and their noses bumped, but they both just laughed, and when he got off the motorbike, he held out his hand to help her off it. Felicity took his hand, and in the light of the lamppost, he could see her smile light up even brighter than before.

But he could also tell she was tired. Up close, and without her glasses, her eyes were soft, her mascara smudged around the edges and the skin under her eyes a little darker from lack of sleep.

"What?" Felicity said, raising her eyebrows but still smiling.

"You okay?" he asked. "I mean, you probably haven't slept in at least a couple days -"

She interrupted him with a kiss. "I am so much better than okay," she told him against his mouth, "and we are not stopping until we pass out." The determination and earnestness in her voice only made him kiss her back harder. He walked backwards, feeling her hands tightening on his biceps, his lips never leaving hers, and to his relief, the gate was open. But then she moved away from him, rummaging in her pocket for her key and opening the door, and the moment the key was out of the lock, Oliver started kissing her neck from behind. Felicity just laughed, glancing to the door to her left. "We are totally going to get my neighbours talking if any of them come out," she said breathlessly, panting as she turned towards him and his mouth moved from her neck to her cheek and then her lips.

"Is that a challenge?" he murmured, and he could taste her smile as they walked down the hall together, pausing every few steps to linger on each other's lips. It wasn't long before they reached Felicity's door, and he groaned when Felicity ground her hips against his while also attempting to find the correct key to open her front door.

"God, I've missed you," Felicity said, sighing contentedly.

"Not as much as I've missed you," Oliver countered.

And when she gazed up at him, her eyes were filled with something fiery that belied the fatigue he had seen just moments before. "How much?" she whispered, and the whole time she was putting the key in the lock to open her door, she held his gaze steadily. And then he felt her hand wander below his waist and let out an involuntary moan, his eyes closing at her touch. "Oh," she said teasingly, pressing down harder and tiptoeing, her lips tantalisingly close to his. " _That_ much?"

The door was unlocked now, and he shoved it open with his elbow, all the while unzipping her jacket. She let him take it off her, and there was a rustle as it dropped off her arm and onto the floor, but then he became aware of the sound of her alarm beeping from behind him. Felicity pretended not to notice his intake of breath as she leaned over him to put in the code, her breasts pressing against his torso and causing a frisson of electricity to course through him.

Then, she tapped in the code and the beeping stopped, and Oliver back-kicked the door shut just before her lips slammed against his and she pushed him against the door, switching on the light as she did so. Already, her fingers were slipping under the hem of his shirt, and he was sure he heard the thin material tear when she lifted it over his head.

"Sorry," she said, and yet once again, she sounded anything but. Oliver only laughed, lifting her off her feet, his hand already between her legs and pressing as hard as he could through her jeans.

"Bedroom," he growled, and his other hand was in her hair, tugging off her hair tie so her hair spilled over her shoulders. He was already walking blindly, revelling in the feeling of her legs wrapped around his hips, and he only realised that they were in her kitchen when his hand collided with one of the kitchen surfaces.

"Wrong way," she said, laughing, but he realised as she arched into him that he would have to have her right there. Lifting her from the kitchen surface, he pulled down her jeans and panties in one go, and when his knuckles brushed ever so lightly against her centre, he could her familiar wetness drip across his fingers. He looked down at her, holding her gaze as he licked his fingertips, marvelling in her sweet taste, and she let out a long breath heavy with arousal before pressing a kiss on the side of his neck, at the same time yanking down his pants with wanton force.

Her breath was kissing his ear when she murmured, "I need you, Oliver… right now."

Hands now on her hips, Oliver obediently hoisted her onto the kitchen counter, feeling her shudder at the coldness of the surface on her warm skin. She groaned, and he gazed right into her eyes, only closing them when he was inside her, kissing her full on the mouth at the same time. He broke away after a moment, muttering, "I love you" and loving how she was biting her lip.

"Oliver…" she said, and her voice sounded so sweet, almost songlike when she whispered his name, "God, Oliver, I love you."

His hands slid under her shirt, undoing her bra strap and caressing her breasts. He dipped his head down and kissed her breast through the fabric of her shirt, his teeth lightly scraping against her stiff nipple, leaving a damp patch on the material before his lips returned to hers. Then his hands slipped down to squeeze her buttocks, pushing his hips closer to hers. She cried out, rocking her hips and meeting his thrusts, and her hands were on his shoulders, tracing the scars on his back, her nails piercing his skin.

Gripping her thighs, he lifted her off the counter and her legs tightened around his hips. She threw her head back, hair flying, and he grunted, supporting all her weight and showering every inch of exposed skin from her chin to the beginning of her cleavage with kisses as she came with a keening cry of his name, and that was all it took for him to come too, moments later, her name a familiar, oft-uttered prayer on his tongue. Felicity buried her face in his neck, mouthing words of reverence and pleasure and love that, days ago, he would not have felt he deserved. But now, as he straightened after making love to the woman he thought he had said his last goodbye to a month ago and felt the exhilaration coursing through him, Oliver knew things were different.

Because what what he had with Felicity was something else entirely. He felt fatigue from lack of sleep, overwhelmed by the physical exertion from being shot several times and having almost been stabbed yet again and exhaustion that inevitably came from having sex while standing up.

He felt fantastic.


End file.
